A Conversation With the Monster Underneath My Bed

Flash Fiction. Probably.

“You still up, mate?”

“Yeah. Sure am. You?”

“Wouldn’t have muttered that in my sleep, I don’t think. So yep. Absolutely.”

“Shit. Have I been keeping you up?”

“You haven’t exactly been helping me fall into a fitful slumber. Not with all that tossing and turning, which has been going on for quite some time now.”

“My sincerest apologies.”

“Not a worry, my man. I know you’ve got a lot on your mind. You’re in the shit and what kind of monster under the bed would I be if I didn’t get knee-deep in it with you?”

“Probably more of the kind of monster people tend to think about when they think about monsters.”

“Well, I mean, we’ve been through this plenty of times and you know how I feel about it.”

“That i do.”

“Monster is such a pejorative term.”

“I know your feelings on the topic. Like you said, we’ve been through this plenty of times.”

“Still gets my goat, though, you know? I hate being pigeon-holed like that. Like, I’m a monster, sure. I am what I am and I’m not going to try and change that, nor could I if I really wanted to. But the stigma surrounding people’s perceptions of what a monster is or should be is just really unfair. This isn’t necessarily a ‘one bad apple spoils the whole bunch’ kind of scenario.”

“I hear you, my guy. But what do you want me to do about it?”

“Glad we’re finally talking about this. You could be a little more vocal when it comes to advocating for me, for one. Tell people the monster who lives underneath your bed isn’t all that bad and over the course of your relationship has become one of your best friends and closest confidants. Like, we’ve grown up together, dude. Been with you since, what, diapers?”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Both. You know pretty much as well as I do that that kind of rhetoric wouldn’t go over well.”

“I acknowledge that this is true, but…”

“But what?”

“You’re right. Forget I said anything.”

“Look, I’m sorry. Don’t be like that. It just — it wouldn’t be an easy or probably even advisable thing for me to start telling people that not only do I have a monster who lives underneath my bed, but that he is and has always been one of my best friends. That he’s not nefarious or scary or anything like that. That he is actually quite comforting and a great listener.”

“It wouldn’t be bought. Nor welcomed. Right. Also, you forgot ‘gentle kisser’ when you were complimenting me just now.”

“The only living creature in this house you’ve kissed is Petunia. So I wouldn’t really know.”

“She’a a great cat. Got dog vibes, you know? I’ve grown to love that sandpaper tongue. And you could find out if you wanted to.”

“I’ll pass on that for now, but good to know you’re open to it, because the dating hasn’t been going so well.”

“This I know. Haven’t lost sleep from you ruffling the sheets with someone else for quite some time.”

“Thanks for the reminder.”

“And you’ve been here every night since, you know The Unfortunate Incident with She Who Shall No Longer Be Named.”

“I’m aware of what I haven’t been doing and where I’ve been sleeping. All too aware.”

“Maybe it’s time to fire up the apps again. Have you thought about that?”

“Pass.”

“Fair enough, chum. Back to the topic at hand.”

“Which was?”

“You starting to tell people that I exist and that not all monsters should get such a bad rap.”

“If I did that, some people might want to lock me up. If I’m being honest.”

“Best policy, honesty. Read that somewhere. Gotta get down to brass tacks sometimes.”

“I sense your disgruntlement. But It is what it is.”

“You know I hate when people use that phrase. Such a copout.”

“But in this case, it really is what it is.”

“And that’s how it’s gonna be. Right. Copy that, chief.”

“Look, I wish I could do more but…”

“You know I’m not some sort of anomaly, right?”

“What?”

“Monsters like me are a dime a dozen, man. I’ve never really told you this. But. You know how many of us there are out there? Do you have any idea?”

“How many?”

“More than you could ever quantify. You’re the opposite of alone in this. Just like me.”

“What?”

“Everyone in the world has a monster under their bed. At least one. Most actually have more, believe it or not. And so many of these people just think it’s all in their head.”

“I’m actually not entirely convinced you’re not a figment of my imagination.”

“Well, if I was, how much would that really matter anyway?”

“That’s deep.”

“Yeah, you don’t really have to answer that right now if you don’t want to. We’ll table it. Put a pin in it.”

“To be continued?”

“Hope so, bud. But for now you should get some sleep. Big presentation tomorrow.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“That’s all you can do.”

“Night, Hank.”

“Night, Scott. Love you.”

“Love you more.”

“Impossible.”